Cold Dawn (26 page)

"You notice anything going on between Nick and Rose?"

Elijah sighed. "They're fighting it."

"Ask Jo if the task force has looked into Nick's travels and considered if he could be an arsonist, one of Lowell's killers for hire."

"Grit."

"All this California sun is getting to me. You're Special Forces. You wouldn't understand the appeal of Coronado."

"Are you nostalgic, Grit?" Elijah didn't wait for an answer. "If my sister is in danger from Nick Martini--if there's even a shred of a possibility--I want to know."

"Heroes with scars worry me."

"That describes you and me, too, Grit."

"I worry me. You don't worry me now that you've got Jo."

"We're both solid. Nick is, too. None of us has targeted innocent people."

"Derek Cutshaw and Rob Feehan weren't innocent."

Good point, Grit thought, and disconnected.

He was back in Sean's driveway when Charlie Neal called with a similar theory about Jasper Vanderhorn suspecting Nick Martini, but Charlie didn't really believe it, either. "We're running down blind alleys and into brick walls," the vice president's son said.

Grit didn't even bother correcting Charlie's use of
we
. Let the kid be a part of something.

"How are your sisters?" Grit asked.

"We're all going to Black Falls for the winter fest weekend at the lodge. Marissa in particular can't wait to be back there. She's signing up for cross-country ski lessons and a sleigh ride. I hope the sap will be running so I can make maple syrup. Did you know it takes about forty gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup?"

"That's a lot of sap."

"Real maple syrup and tupelo honey have a lot in common." Charlie hesitated. "Marissa won't tell me anything. I think the Secret Service got to her. You're not reporting back to them every time I call, are you?"

"That's not my job."

"Because my calls are innocent. Totally. I'm not making any progress. I can tell Marissa's upset. I think she still has feelings for Stevens. Did you notice? Could you tell?"

"I met her for about seventeen seconds three months ago."

"Are you getting transferred to San Diego?"

Grit was almost used to the pinball machine that was Charlie Neal's mind. "No."

"But you like it there."

"What difference does that make? Anything else you want to tell me?"

"I wish I could do more to help."

"You'll have your chance to do your own thing before you know it. Right now think about that maple sap."

Grit hung up and went inside. The Vermonters were pacing.

Beth shoved her hands through her hair. "I can't stand this anymore. I'm booking my flight back to Vermont. I don't care if it's twenty degrees and a hundred-fifty miles to the nearest Saks."

"Forty-two degrees today," Hannah said. "I checked."

"Spring weather," Beth said.

Which right there was why he'd never fit in there, Grit thought. He could be subtle if he had to be, but that wasn't now. "Are you worried about Rose being with Nick?"

Both women glanced at Sean. It was his question to answer. "Nick's a lot of things," Sean said, "but he's not an arsonist."

"Did Jasper Vanderhorn suspect Nick was his serial arsonist?"

"Jasper suspected his own mother by the end."

Sean didn't elaborate and walked out to the patio. Grit glanced at the two women, then followed Sean outside to see what more he could get out of him. It wouldn't be easy. The man was a Cameron.

Twenty-Four

Black Falls, Vermont

J
o Harper and two of the Cameron brothers came to dinner at Rose's house. Nick didn't know when or if she'd invited them. He watched her toss a handful of chopped fresh parsley into a soup pot, the steam rising into her face. She'd spent the afternoon holed up in her back office, leaving him by the woodstove with his laptop. Ranger would peer up at him occasionally as if he figured he had to start getting used to having him around.

Now Elijah and A.J. had the same look.

Suspicious Cameron eyes.

Rose had kicked Nick and her brothers out of her work area in the kitchen. They all had beers and stood by a small peninsula that separated the kitchen and living room. She was animated, focused, professional and determined, easily holding her own with her brothers. Nick had sorted out the major players in her life in Black Falls.

Jo pulled off her coat and draped it on a chair by the woodstove. "I've talked to some people," she said vaguely, standing next to Elijah. "Robert Feehan flew from Boston to Los Angeles last Thursday and returned on Tuesday, the day before Nick arrived in Black Falls and two days before Derek Cutshaw was killed."

Even with the steam from her bubbling soup, Rose's cheeks lost their color. "Then Robert could have killed Portia Martinez," she said.

Jo's turquoise eyes narrowed on her fiance's only sister. "Placing Feehan in Los Angeles is an important piece of circumstantial evidence, but it's not enough." She walked over to the sink just down from Rose at the stove. "Anything I can do to help?"

Rose grinned at her. "Where were you an hour ago?" But she pointed to the peninsula and a tray of drinks and snacks. "Grab a beer or something and relax. I'm just waiting for the bread to warm up."

A.J. kept his gaze focused on his sister. He'd come alone. Lauren was still at the lodge with their children. "If Cutshaw found out Feehan was in California and started asking questions, that could explain why he was killed."

"They both knew Sean lives out there," Elijah said.

Rose snatched up a long-handled spoon and dipped it into her soup pot. "If Robert was a serial arsonist--a serial killer--then he could have been drawn to Sean because of his smoke jumping. So why not go after him? He foiled Lowell's attempt to frame Bowie and avoid arrest." She yanked her spoon out of the soup and set it on the counter. "Why go after this woman mopping floors for Marissa Neal's ex-boyfriend?"

Jo leaned back against the peninsula, her arms crossed on her chest. "Let's focus on Robert and Derek right now. If Derek suspected Robert was a killer and the two of them were also into pushing pills, maybe he went out to the Whittaker place to talk to you and figure out what to do."

"Why would he? I hadn't seen him in so long. We didn't part on good terms."

"But you're a Cameron," Jo said.

Elijah and A.J. both grunted. Elijah said, "What's that got to do with anything?"

Jo glanced back at him. "You all have been in the thick of this mess from the start. If Robert Feehan's our guy, he was out of work as a paid arsonist because of you."

"Jo, we had nothing to do with the Neals until you came back home," A.J. said quietly.

"Fair point, A.J." Jo lowered her arms, looking tired but no less focused. "We've got a lot to untangle."

"All right," Rose said. "Let's say Derek was about to go to the police with what he knew about Robert, and Robert found out and followed him to the Whittaker place and killed him--set up the lamp, rigged it so that it would explode when Derek lit it. He could have had a backup plan in case Derek didn't do as predicted. He could have hid in the woods--" She stopped herself and switched off the heat under the soup. "It doesn't explain Nick."

Nick waited two beats before he responded. "I came out here because the timing was right for me. I'd been wondering for some time if the serial arsonist Jasper was dogging was involved with Lowell Whittaker's network. The police knew about my concern." He felt the scrutiny of the three Camerons and the Secret Service agent, but his gaze was focused entirely on Rose. "My trip wasn't a secret."

"So Feehan could have found out about it." Jo picked a cube of cheese off a plate and popped it into her mouth. "I'm hungry. Let's save all this speculating for dessert, at least."

Ranger needed to go out, and Nick seized the moment and escorted the golden retriever out the back door. Good dog that he was, Ranger dutifully headed halfway down the driveway and into the adjoining woods to do his business.

Nick hadn't put on his jacket. He could feel the temperature dropping with nightfall, but the air wasn't frigid. He dialed Sean in California. "This missing actor is connected to me. I don't know how, but he is."

"Yeah," Sean said. "Maybe to both of us."

"And Jasper."

"The police are still searching for Stevens. They must be wondering if whoever killed Portia Martinez got to him and he's dead, too. When are you coming back?"

"Soon," Nick said, although he hadn't thought about the question. What the hell was he doing? Rose had a life here. She didn't need him complicating it. "The investigation here is in capable hands. I've told law enforcement everything I know. They're going over Jasper's case files. There's nothing more I can contribute."

"Your voice is off. What's going on?"

Ranger bounded out of the dark woods, a tennis ball in his mouth. Nick smiled. "Snow and a wet dog."

"You're at Rose's, then."

"Jo and your brothers are here for dinner."

"Lucky you," Sean said.

Nick pulled the slobbery tennis ball out of the golden retriever's mouth and flung it down the driveway. Ranger leaped after it. Nick said, "I want to know why all this happened the minute I got here."

"Everyone does. That kind of coincidence--no one's buying it." Sean paused. "Rose doesn't tell anyone much about her private life. Nick, I don't get involved in your personal life, but Rose has had a tough year."

"You all have, Sean."

"She's a professional when it comes to her search-and-rescue work, but fatigue can set in with anyone. She had a lot come at her at once. We've all been preoccupied and didn't pay attention to how much she withdrew." Sean's voice was laced with regret. "She was already vulnerable before Pop died."

"She's got you all focused on her now." Nick watched Ranger return with the ball, drop it in front of him. "Sean, I'm not going to do anything to hurt Rose or your family."

"Hell, I hope not."

Nick quickly shifted the subject. "I've been thinking about the Hollywood types who came to see us to find out about smoke jumping. I've made a list of every conversation, every person who contacted me that I can think of."

"I've done the same. Grit Taylor's all over this."

"If Trent Stevens isn't dead, maybe he's playing smoke jumper."

Nick disconnected and skirted a glistening section of the driveway that was slick with black ice from snow and ice that had melted and then refrozen.

Go ahead, he thought. Fall. Get your butt all bruised and broken.

At least a trip to the E.R. would keep him from making love to Rose Cameron tonight.

Because that was what he wanted to do.

He'd spent the afternoon working--answering emails, sending instructions to his assistant, brainstorming new projects--and staring at the woodstove, trying to figure out how Derek Cutshaw and Robert Feehan had ended up dead and what his decision to come to Vermont had to do with their deaths.

All the while he'd fought the same burning desire for Rose that he'd felt last June and hadn't resisted. He might be a rogue and a snake for having done it, but he couldn't imagine not having made love to Rose then--or not having kissed her last night.

She knew her own mind. All three of her brothers had to have that through their rock heads by now.

But she'd been reeling for months, and Derek Cutshaw had done a number on her sense of confidence with men. His death had put her right back in his emotional grip.

Nick's BlackBerry notified him he had a text message. It was from his sister: SEAL stopped to see us.

Grit Taylor.

So Elijah Cameron's SEAL friend had looked into him and his family. Nick wasn't offended. Jasper Vanderhorn had done the same thing last year shortly before the fire that killed him.

Nick heard someone on the back steps. In a moment, Elijah joined him. He had on a thick sweater, no coat, hat or gloves. "We're not as trusting and as open as we were a year ago," the Special Forces soldier said.

"I get that."

Elijah didn't respond at once. There were stars out now, sparkling in breaks in the milky clouds. Finally he said, "When we were kids, we'd hike up here. Rose was upset when this house was built, but it works with the land. She bought it, made it her own. She travels a lot, but she always comes home. That's one thing we all have in common."

"You Camerons have more in common than you think some days, I imagine."

"Maybe so." Elijah picked up the tennis ball and tossed it into the snow, but Ranger wasn't as quick leaping after it. "Why are you so determined to find this arsonist?"

"Because he killed a friend of mine, and I don't like arsonists. I've dealt with them often enough. So has Sean."

"You don't think it was Feehan," Elijah said.

Nick shrugged. "We need to know more."

"Is it possible Vanderhorn was wrong and there is no serial arsonist?"

"Possible. Not likely. He went by his gut as well as evidence."

"So we might never have clear-cut answers." Elijah almost smiled. "Jo won't like that. She likes clear-cut answers."

"If Feehan didn't set those fires, then someone else did," Nick said, stating the obvious. "Feehan and Cutshaw could just have been targets of convenience."

"Eliminate a threat and provide a fall guy at the same time."

Nick had no trouble visualizing Elijah Cameron on a combat mission.

Ranger returned and headed up the dark back steps, the tennis ball still in his mouth. Nick grinned. "Guess he's done," he said, and he and Elijah followed the dog back inside Rose's little Vermont mountain house.

Rose walked Jo and her two brothers out after dinner. They were off to the lodge for drinks and more talk. Jo and Elijah would spend the night there. They hadn't bothered to argue with her about staying another night at her house.

They knew Nick would be there, she thought, and they trusted him.

She headed back inside and found him filling the woodbox. "Jasper didn't suspect you," she said without preamble. "I thought you knew."